


Zenith

by alltoseek



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:25:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltoseek/pseuds/alltoseek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin regrets taking the Swiss Air job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zenith

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my betas, unsentimentalf and jessamygriffith.
> 
>  
> 
> Please note that I have chosen not to use archive warnings, as a warning would be a spoiler. If you prefer being spoiled and require a warning please see the end note.

Martin hated flying as a passenger. He was certain it was his sheer force of will that kept his planes in the air, and he could not exert that force properly without sitting at her controls. He was well aware of his bare adequacy as a pilot; it was certainly not his skill that kept his aircraft from turning into death-traps. But he also knew the indomitable force of his determination to fly, and that kept him airborne.

If he'd been in the cockpit of an MJN flight, he could imagine the unexpected and truly alarming turbulence they were currently experiencing during their descent was the result of a wrestling match between himself and Douglas for control of the landing. If it were he making the cabin announcement to “not be alarmed, folks, but our touch down may be somewhat bumpier than usual, so please brace for impact,” he would know that the tight undertone of panic was just his own anxious nature making itself heard, as it tended to do even when ordering coffee, if the barista happened to be good-looking. 

But as it was, Martin knew he was on a real, professional airline, with real, professional pilots; and turbulence this close to the ground combined with a panicky pilot's voice could only mean serious trouble. Martin was all too aware of how many troubles those could be, and how serious.

He had worried and worried over his decision to accept the Swiss Airlines position – a new company, all new colleagues, a whole new _country_ – was the money worth it? Well, money and Theresa too. But between her traveling and his, did his home base matter so much? Their second date had been in India, of all places. 

Eventually the lure of the salary – to be truly a professional pilot, no longer an amateur hobbyist, added to proximity to Lichenstein, proved stronger than loyalty, uncertainty, and fear.

Now as he huddled in braced position, all he could see in his mind was Douglas, and Arthur, and Carolyn, and all he could think was how wrong he'd been. _Wrong wrong wrong._ He'd go back, he swore. If he survived this flight, he'd go back home.

~*~*~

Only Arthur looked up as Martin entered the portacabin. Carolyn had wanted Martin to take the job, was proud of him, even, beneath her bluster that of course MJN would survive the loss of Martin, really; why, without the endless extra costs of his incompetent idiocy they might even turn a profit! He was sure she was disappointed in his return, but she'd get over it. And in reality, Martin had hardly cost MJN any extra money lately; he'd improved so much. Not in months – well, not since the return trip from Vaduz, with the extra fuel. But that wasn't even his fault – stupid Vaduzian ground host.

Douglas no doubt was disappointed to be demoted back to first officer. Not that he'd had much chance at being captain, as Herc claimed that rank when he helped out. Just on Douglas' solo flights – which had been maybe one or two at most; Martin had not been gone a week. Douglas would get over it; after all, he was still being paid whilst Martin was not; he'd still have Martin to tease, and win the cheese tray from.

Still, it stung a bit, not even to be greeted. Instead Douglas got up and went into Carolyn's office, closing the door. But not before Martin noticed the _captain's_ epaulettes he was wearing. Martin's lips thinned, as he mulled over how best to handle this.

Then Arthur looked up, and his eyes grew wide, astonished: “Skip! You're back! But – ”

“Of course I'm back,” replied Martin waspishly, still irked by those epaulettes. “Didn't Carolyn tell you?”

Arthur shook his head silently, face unusually pale. “No, I thought – ”

“Yes, yes, so did I; I know that's what I told everyone. Off to become a real professional pilot at a real professional airline. No longer a hobby captain at an airdot. Well, I was wrong. MJN is home, I realised that. I don't belong in Zurich; I belong here. So I'm back.” Martin tried smiling, but it was hard. He wasn't getting anything like a typical Arthurian greeting – the giant grin, the exuberant “Hi Skip!” he usually received after a simple trip to the loo; let alone returning from a different country. Instead, Arthur was looking rather gray, astonishment giving way to unease. “Arthur, are you feeling quite well? You don't look yourself. Is anything wrong?”

“Oh no, no, I'm fine. J-Just fine. I – I'm glad you're back. Of course, you're right; MJN is home, isn't it? For all of us. It's great you're back. Really! It's br – brilliant. Brilliant!” A ghost of Arthur's cheeriness returned, though Martin could tell it was forced. Perhaps something had happened, but Arthur didn't want to discuss it. He usually didn't, if it was upsetting. Best to go along with that.

“Thank you, Arthur, it's brilliant to be back.” Martin's smile this time was more natural. He moved over to the desk. “I'll just fill out today's flight plan. I saw Douglas here, but I doubt – ”

“Oh, Douglas did it already. I mean, he just took it into Mum's office. That's what they're discussing now.”

Ah. If Douglas were taking on more responsibilities, perhaps he planned to keep those epaulettes. Well, a fight over who's going to be captain would upset Arthur. That could explain why he seemed so worried.

~*~*~

And of course their passenger thought Douglas was the captain. As usual. Martin supposed she could be forgiven, as Douglas still had his captain's stripes on. But not a captain's hat – no hat at all, as it was. And Martin did have his hat on! It should be damned hard to miss, the sun shining on the gold braid. He sighed as he shouldered past Douglas, “No, I'm the captain – Captain Martin Cr– ” but Douglas was already shaking her hand and welcoming her. Though Douglas must have felt bad, anyway, somehow, because although Ms White was a rather lovely, graceful fortyish – the type Douglas usually smarmed all over – his greeting was civil but brief, with no apparent interest in charming the lady.

Arthur spared a brief, panicked look at Martin, then escorted their passenger to her seat. Douglas had already turned towards the flightdeck, leaving Martin to follow in his wake. Only to have the flightdeck door nearly closed in his face. “Hey!” Douglas ignored him and sat in his seat, which Martin was very happy to see was his usual one – the co-pilot's. Fine, Douglas could sulk all he wanted, even wear as many stripes as he wanted (Martin thought magnanimously), as long as he knew who was really in charge.

Martin picked up his captain's hat that was lying in the captain's chair, then took his seat. Ahhh... he smiled joyfully for the first time. All Gerti's more-or-less functioning control panel spread out before him, the duct tape over the larger cracks, the slightly gummy switches. Home. Martin felt comfortable for the first time in days.

~*~*~

Pre-flight and post-take-off checks went fine, Douglas echoing along dutifully, though quietly. Martin was nearly euphoric as they rose gracefully into the sky. So so perfect, flying again, at the controls. Sublime. He leant back in his seat, eyes closed, enjoying the sensation. The roaring power of the engines, straining against the pull of the earth; the slight lift as they reached altitude, after the long push against his seat; the easy hum of maintaining their height now, almost like gently wafting, floating in the sky...

Gradually his happiness wore off, as Douglas continued his silent sulk. He initiated nothing and was entirely unresponsive to anything Martin said. All words from him were only the ones strictly required.

Blessedly, Arthur came in. Seemed odd, blessing Arthur's appearance, but today was a fairly odd one. Anyway, it was all his friends Martin'd come back to be with, right? So Arthur too, naturally.

“Hi, chaps- Skip! Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee?”

Martin shook his head, still high on his pleasure of being were he belonged. Douglas also declined.

Arthur lingered, looking worriedly between Martin and Douglas. “Quiet today, isn't it? Shall we play a game?”

Douglas sighed, “You think a game would be a good idea, do you? What game do you fancy? Oh, I know, how about films with 'death' or 'dead' in the title?” 

To Martin's ears, Douglas sounded rather sarcastic, but Arthur perked right up. “Oh, I know one – _Shaun of the Dead_!”

Douglas sighed again, even more wearily. “Yes, very good.”

Martin: “Um, _Death.. Becomes... Her_?” he thought he had that right; always struck him as a rather strange title.

Douglas said, “There's _Death Becomes Her_.”

“Hey! I just said that!” Martin said indignantly.

“Death doesn't become him, though, does it?” Douglas went on.

Martin frowned. What the hell did that mean?

Arthur looked sad. “No, no, it doesn't. I'm sorry, I'll just go and check, check on...” his voice trailed off as he exited the flightdeck. 

Good God, did someone die? And no one told him? Maybe that's why everyone was so quiet and depressed. Maybe they thought he knew, and didn't care or something. Was it Dirk? Phil? Someone else at Fitton? It wasn't Carl, at least; they'd just heard his voice from Fitton tower. Or Herc; Carolyn has been talking to him over the phone as they'd left. But the loss of any of their ground crew would cast a pall over things, certainly. Well, as Douglas was clearly not in a talkative mood, he'd ask Arthur at his next opportunity.

~*~*~

After Arthur had left, silence descended upon the flightdeck once more. Well, as silent as Gerti could be with the constant roar of her engines and the occasional half-hearted mewl from a malfunctioning warning signal. 

Gaze fixed upon the horizon, from the corner of his eye Martin saw Douglas' head shake slowly. “No more games. No more teasing, either. In your eternal quest to go that extra mile, you went too many miles, my friend. Far, far too many.”

“Hey! But I came back! I'm back now!”

Douglas gave a glance to Martin's seat – not to Martin, but to the seat, where his hat had been – wait, still was? What the –! Martin felt on his head; there was his hat, but he could also see it on the seat – the seat he was sitting on – Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod...

~*~*~

“It's me, isn't it?” Martin asked Arthur in the galley. “I'm the one who died.”

Arthur nodded glumly. 

“Why can you see me, and no one else can?”

“I – I don't know, Skip. I just see people some time – people who've died, but don't yet know it.”

“Oh god...” 

They shared a silent moment, as Martin let the truth sink in, staring between the empty captain's seat and Arthur's distressed face.

“Welll... thank you, anyway, Arthur,” said Martin. “Thank you for greeting me, and... and... seeing me, and... and... well, just thank you.”

“Oh, you're welcome, Skip! Anytime!” Arthur smiled.

“Do you... do you know what happens now? I mean, what do I do? Do I go... anywhere? What am I supposed to do?”

“I'm sorry, Skip, I don't know. I've never died myself, you know.”

“No, no, of course not.” Martin looked back at the cockpit, past his seat and out through the expansive window. “But maybe... I think maybe I do know.”

~*~*~

By force of will Martin kept flying even as Douglas began the descent. By force of will Martin kept Gerti in the air, with him, even as he saw the aeroplane lower beneath him, under Douglas' capable hands.

Martin and his Gerti – not the physical metal one, prone to malfunctioning and losing bits, but the real Gerti, her true spirit – kept soaring along, far above the earth; held aloft by Martin's sheer determination to fly.

**Author's Note:**

> spoilery warning: major character death


End file.
